


Heist Night

by navaan



Category: DCU (Comics), Grayson (Comics)
Genre: Bad Flirting, Gen, Heist, Inappropriate Behavior, Innuendo, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 07:14:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13049133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navaan/pseuds/navaan
Summary: A night at the museum goes differently than planned.





	Heist Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chantefable](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chantefable/gifts).



Speeches were boring.

Midnighter had never had much time for people who liked to hear themselves talk to much.

And he wasn't here to listen. 

For two weeks he had been tracking the lost god garden technology and that was the only reason for him to stand here in a good if slightly boring suit, listening to an old guy drone an about educational values. The museum had acquired the Life Caster device as an artifact with a lot of boxes that held old bones and trinkets. 

They had no idea what they were dealing with and he was here to get the device back, before it could do any harm or fall into the wrong hands.

The thieves who had stolen it had hid it among the stuffy museum things to get it out of his sight, but he had in truth never lost track of them. 

In hopes of getting his hands on his prize before the boxes ever were delivered, Midnighter had tracked the way of the shipment, but someone was running interference. Someone who was most likely also tracking the Life Caster to retrieve it. 

Calmly, he scanned the crowd of listeners who were here to learn about the exhibition the museum was putting together with all the newly acquired exhibits. 

Midnighter only wanted to know who he was up against.

But nobody here really caught his eye.

For the uninvolved onlooker Midnighter and his slightly unorthodox haircut would be the only thing standing out in this boring crowd. But this was as far undercover as he was willing to go for the mission; for once Lucas Trent was doing the work, while Midnighter worked out what to do.

 _Preferably no blood bath in the museum_ , he thought wryly, thinking of the last mission. _But if it can't be helped._

A reporter asked some boring questions about the preserved mammoth carcass that was part o the new acquisitions and he only listened with half an ear. That was when he saw the guard speak into his lapels and duck away through a door to the left of the room. It wasn't only a sign of something going on that immediately made him curious... 

It was the man.

He had never seen the _face_ before. 

But the buttocks in those boring black uniform pants – those were familiar.

 _Those_ he would recognize anywhere.

Interest piqued, he slipped out of the crowd and followed the guard, not even bothering with stealth.

If Grayson was here, then he was sure Spyral also had an interest. It didn't come as a surprise. That organization had its own shady agenda.

Slowly trailing behind, he let Grayson go through two of the rooms before he casually caught up with him. 

The man had stopped in front of the mammoth carcass that was displayed behind glass and watched it. Midnighter had an easy time to just walk up to him and let his hand brush along Grayson's ass casually.

Blue eyes – entirely the wrong shade of blue for Dick Grayson this time thanks to the Hypnos disguise – snapped up to his. 

“Sir,” Grayson said in warning. The voice was too gravelly, but it was a well schooled performance that you could see through if you know the man beneath. 

“Interested?” he asked and wriggled his eyebrows. He wasn't even joking. Grayson was annoying and too righteous for the job he thought he was doing, but he was nice enough to look at. If ever he gave an indication that he was interested, Midnighter would not hesitate to act on it. He show the kid a good time any day of the week.

So far, Grayson, flirt that he was, had done nothing to indicate a deeper interest.

“Are you trying to...?” Grayson turned fully to study him, probably trying to gauge the man who would just step up to a museum guard to paw him. The wrong face looked even worse with the frowning expression and Midnighter wished he could have seen the real Grayson beneath. It was always nice to get a rise out of the kid. 

Then the frown changed into a blank expression. 

He smiled, showing his teeth. “That face doesn't fit you. Want to switch off the Hypnos or want me to do it for you, Grayson?”

“Ah,” the Spyral agent said with just a hint of annoyed playfulness, catching up with what was going on immediately. “Is the hair part of your disguise, M?”

“Let this be a warning,” Midnighter said and this time his hand didn't just brush along the firm backside. He squeezed, hard. “Spyral will keep its claws away from this device. It's too dangerous and it's my responsibility.”

The Hypnos stayed in place and Grayson didn't even so much as blink. “Always nice meeting you, too,” he said, watching a bunch of kids flood into the room from the corners of his eyes. “Duly noted. I feel extremely warned.”

Without another word or giving him a chance to say anything, Grayson slipped away. And Midnighter had a feeling he hadn't seen the last of him, perfect buttocks and all.

* * *

Being who he is, Midnighter decided to take things into his own hands before someone else could.

By nightfall he was back at the museum. He knew where to look, he knew how to get there.

A Door let him fall silently into the right room where he landed on his feet. But as soon as he was in, the computer in his head warned him of danger.

“You!” he shouted and saw Grayson in his Hypnos disguise stand by the showcase that had held the Life Caster. The man had already got to it and there was no alarm ringing. 

He laughed and that was when Midnighter realized something was wrong.

The buttocks.

All wrong.

This wasn't the annoying, but usually charming former Batman side kick. 

“Ah, the alien fight computer,” the man's voice spat. “We knew you'd want this.”

He knew what to do. He moved, leather of his coat rustling behind him, easily reaching his opponent. It was easy enough to reach his opponent.

“You're too late,” the man said before Midnighter's fist landed in the middle of his face and sent him reeling. 

He sensed the coming danger, just before he was lifted up by a strong woolly trunk. 

Holy shit.

“The fucking idiot used it,” he growled.

An angrily raging mammoth had him be the hips and was ready to smash him and anything in its path. 

His opponent cackled. Scrambled back to his feet and grabbed for the device.

Midnighter tried to get free – he knew what to do next, of course, he always did – an he knew he was in for a fight.

But then he was gently set down on the floor.

When he turned Grayson – the real one with his very own face – stood by the animal and smiled at him. “Good girl,” he said and patted the woolly beast by the ears. “She's a good girl. Now go get your device.”

There were about three comebacks on his tongue, that never made it out of his mouth, but he also knew to act. 

He crashed into the fleeing thief before they'd made it out the door, wrestled the Life Caster from the thief's fingers and laughed as he knocked him out.

“All in a day's work,” he muttered and then dragged the unconscious form with him. “This one of yours?”

Grayson was patting the mammoth that had gone from a scared-rage to making happy sounds, as the young man fed it an apple.  
An apple.

Grayson had brought an apple to heist.

Why wasn't Midnighter surprised at all?

“Former Spyral, yes,” Dick said with a side glance at the guard. “Knew he was sup to something. Now take your thing and go, before someone decides it's my job to take it from you.” 

Aware that the mammoth was eyeing him wearily he stepped into Grayson's space and did what he'd wanted to do for a long time. He kissed him square on the lips and enjoyed the small sound of surprise it drew from him.

“You're always good for a surprise,” he whispered, “aren't you? Animal handling? What is this? A D&D game?”

“Circus boy,” Grayson reminded him softly. “I used to work with our elephants at Haley's.”

He pulled away. He needed to call a Door and clean this mess, even though he would rather have stayed. “You have this under control?”

The mammoth was curiously trying to grab at his leather coat with the strong trunk.

“Yes,” Dick said and soothingly patted the mammoth. “Go.”

He stepped away and called a Door. 

“I'm interested, by the way,” Grayson called after him.

He had a final glimpse of the delectable agent as he patted the hairy elephant and smiled after him.

Midnighter grinned when walked out of the Door in the god garden.

“You have no idea what you're getting into,” he said out loud. But, boy, did he have incentive now to go look up one Agent 37 again as soon as possible.

He hoped the man was ready for what hit him then.


End file.
